The Only One He Ever Feared, He Loved
by dearjenna
Summary: What were really on the pages of Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr.'s diary before it became a horcruxe? This fanfic is rewrite of one I did years ago when my account was MelodyandJennifer. Isn't it ironic that Dumbledore was announced gay?
1. September 1, 1937

**Disclaimer: So, this should be obvious since this is , but out of courtesy to the creators/writers, I have to state that I, Jennifer, do not own Harry Potter.**

**Author's Note: The following are characters I thought needed mention because I made them up—Oswald Crabbe is the name I made up at the time that I originally wrote this, clearly, Crabbe has a father, so I did not make up the character; Roland Mormon, is a coincidental half-giant that is going to school at Hogwarts and has no family affiliation with Hagrid; Gumby or "Gritz," is a kitchen-staff elf that works at Hogwarts; Ms. Munnings is the keeper of Riddle's old orphanage—I do not actually know if there was ever a mention of her name at all. And names you could possibly not know include Abraxas Malfoy who is Draco's grandfather, and Olive Hornby who is the girl that tormented poor Myrtle before her death by the basilisk. **

**Also, I am well aware that, technically, Albus Dumbledore was not made headmaster until sometime after Tom Riddle was in school, but all I know is the wonderful Headmaster, Dumbledore. To try and envision him as a Transfiguration professor would just be odd to me. Not to mention, I do not have enough personal history knowing about Armando Dippet (the actual Headmaster at the time) to even use his name. **

**So, for my Fanfic, Dumbledore not only recruits students, but is headmaster. Deal with it. *Glasses.* **

**Also, I just realized that I said Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald in the 1800s. Honestly, when I wrote that, I am not sure where I came up with that date. Some Wikis seem to claim it was around 1945... I am not sure who is right, but I'm leaving it as is because it kind of fit for Tom's reason for being slightly afraid of the man... **

**Okay, I swear I'm done rambling... Enjoy... **

* * *

**_September 1, 1937_**

_The Hogwarts Express_

Dear Diary,

I figured I should keep up with a diary since my life is due to change soon. Over this past summer, at that wretched orphanage I was staying at, a strange, tall, old man with a long white beard and hair to match approached me with an idea: that I should attend a school by the name of Hogwarts. He said that it would be good for me and vice-versa. When he told me all this, my first impression was that he was a very loony man and I insisted that he leave. I'm not too keen on visitors in the first place. As he continued, he explained to me that Hogwarts was a school of witchcraft and wizardry, and that the strange things I can do, that I had been using to my advantage against the others at the orphanage, are not something a normal boy can do. While that was obvious, he said it was magic, and that Hogwarts was just the place for me to learn more about this magic and grow. Dumbledore could see the disbelief in my face, and decided to show me a tremendous example of what magic could be like and I… Okay, I can't say I didn't freak out… But as I called for Ms. Munnings, the keeper of the orphanage, he stopped me. I about pissed right there on my bed. Of course, I was trying to be impressive. You know, cool in front of this handsome fellow. And despite what was actually going through my mind, he was able to win me over.

He told me his name was Albus Dumbledore, and he was the _headmaster_ of Hogwarts. Curiously, I believed him, even though he could have been anyone. I kept wondering, however, why Ms. Munnings would leave me alone in my room with this loony man. I mean, sure, Ms. Munnings is not exactly the _best_ keeper for our orphanage, but she usually has a bit more sense than that. Until this day, I am still completely scared of him, and yet, there's something about—oh, never mind!

I am on the train now—the Hogwarts Express to be exact. It is taking me to this school as I write. I don't know what I'll find here, but I'm sure it'll be exciting. I am attempting to be on my best behavior. No longer will I be the same rowdy boy that caused trouble. I have a purpose, and I am determined to make it work this time. From now on, it's Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr.: best there is... or something like that... I'll come up with a proper title later on. After all, this _is_ all new to me.

Dumbledore told me all sorts of things I was never once aware of: my mother was a witch, and my father was muggleborn... "Muggle" is what they call non-magic folk, and I am known as a kind of half-blood... That is kind of cool actually. It has a cool ring about it. Of course, he told me downsides to this: "Mudblood" is apparently a devilish word used to look down on those of muggleborn decent. That is fine. Kids can poke fun if they want. I can learn to ignore it. It's not as if I was very popular in the orphanage. At the risk of sounding less humble, I was the only thing keeping those kids in their place! They feared me for all the right reasons… The things I could do just by thinking about it… But I suppose I shouldn't talk about those things anymore. The point of this is to have a purpose and become somebody. Somebody special... That's what I am...

Three times now, as I am writing this entry, a girl named Olive Hornby keeps knocking on my cart door asking me if I want company. I don't need some flirt screwing up my plans on my first day here. I declined, but she wasn't too thrilled with me. She keeps coming back angrier than the last time, as if she will force me to give into her advances… I have to remember I'm not the only one here with a gift anymore. Dumbledore warned me of that… He told me to be careful. The time will come when I might meet someone greater than myself, and trying to overcome them with the same kind of magic is rather difficult. He said it is best not to let my head get any bigger and just focus on my studies and becoming a good citizen amongst the wizarding world. He saved me from that place; the least I can do is listen to him.

Seven years at Hogwarts—my escape! Isn't it glorious! It's getting dark out and all of the first years are supposed to travel by boats across the sea to get to the castle. I can't wait, really. I haven't really met anybody interesting yet. I'm hoping to soon, though.

(Sorry, I specifically wrote that last line because Olive forced herself into my lap and began reading what I was writing. I had to find a way to make her mad. Seems to have done the trick. She's off huffing to her own cart, just like a hormonal woman.)

I wonder if Dumbledore teaches any classes. Ah... I could stare at his marvelous eyes all day... What am I saying? I'm going insane! I'm definitely not _homosexual,_ or anything! I felt a girl up once. It was a complete mistake, of course, but I still did it!

-.-~*~-.-

_Boys' Dormitory  
_  
It is about 9 PM and I am just sitting here thinking about Dumbledore... No... I'm sitting here thinking about Potions! Yes, Potions! I opened that text book when we all were allowed to relax in our dormitories. I guess I'm just going to love everything about this place. I had five girls come up to me and practically flaunt their butts in my faces. I wasn't interested in any of them—not that I'm a _homosexual_—they just didn't appeal to me. Like _some _people who are currently running through my mind and will remain nameless because you are probably staring at me right now thinking of how great this is that you are reading a psychotic, gay guy talk on and on and on about people they happen to find interesting. Just go ahead, go right ahead with your _dirty_ mind and think that way about my infatuation with Dumbledore.

While we are speaking of him though, I have to say that while we were in the Great Hall, I suddenly realized just how terrified I actually am of him. Think about it. I read up on him, and he defeated one of the greatest Dark Lords of his time in the 1800s! Frightening. Not to mention, that makes him incredibly old. So you can all just drop your little fantasies… I know the boys in my dorm have been reading this. I'm one of the few that even writes in a diary. Of course they are going to make fun.

When we all piled into the Great Hall, the first years were all sorted. I got Slytherin. Apparently most Slytherins are quite cunning. It would make sense I would end up there. (Aren't I so vain?) After we were sorted, we were formally welcomed by Dumbledore and the professors, and we had the most spectacular dinner I have ever had. Most of the other students aren't like me. Particularly in Slytherin. They all hate muggleborns—they call them all mudbloods. They are all about a pure race of people; racist as can be. I am starting to wonder how well I will fit in with this house. After all, I have to be with them constantly. I have been keeping my muggle father a secret—to not stir trouble—there really is no reason to bring him up when I didn't even know him. I mentioned I was found in an orphanage, though. That intrigued them. They couldn't believe I had never been around this sort of environment before… They would make jokes about famous wizards and witches and talk about the crazy things their wizarding families do, and I will admit, I feel a bit left out. If my git mother hadn't left me to rot in that orphanage, I could have had one of these childhoods. I wouldn't have to play catch-up with this world as I am now. But no matter. The sweet justice was, a boy who had been glaring at me, trying to size me up, I guess, ended up getting a massive erection after Olive, in an attempt to make me jealous, tried sitting in his lap. They were both terribly frightened and embarrassed and I laughed so hard pumpkin juice flew out of my nose—it is times like these that having one becomes a real pain. It's a good thing I'm not easily embarrassed...

Still no one I could consider a real friend. I talked to a couple of girls, though. Twins actually... They said that in their family, every generation that has girls, has twins. I think they said their names were Lucy and Lucinda Patil. Quite the two they are. Once I get their names down pat I can stop making a complete fool of myself with mixing them up.

Let's see… Other things about Hogwarts… Great Hall's food is great! Ha-ha! I'm so punny… At any rate, today has been a long day, and I should be going to bed. School is in the morning. I can only imagine what that has in store for me.

(I should probably find a good hiding spot for this.)  
-Tom Riddle

* * *

**Author's Note: Please leave me reviews! I keep getting so many hits, but no one is reviewing...**


	2. September 2, 1937

**_September 2, 1937_**

_Girls' Lavatory_

Dear Diary,

I had decided to hide you, my dearest little journal, in my suitcase. I figured, why would anyone look there? Especially since it is completely ratty and I only had enough money for the essentials when I visited Diagon Alley. The well-off lads that I room with wouldn't have any particular reason for going through my rattier things, now would they? Well, apparently I was wrong. I hate them all. The must have read the first entry, because you were sent immediately to Dumbledore as some sort of sick prank. Dumbledore called me into his office and you were waiting on his desk. He politely handed you over in that nonchalant manner he has about everything and swore he hadn't read it. He said it wasn't the first time someone's journal or diary was sent to him, and after never finding anything important in any of them for it to be a reason to worry, he has stopped reading them. He said I haven't given him a reason to be worried.

You know... Now that I think about it, his moon-shaped spectacles really do nothing for his eyes. If he just got some eye surgery done or maybe different frames, his beautiful eyes would really pop… Um… Anyway… His office is spectacular. I wish I could live there instead of cooped up with all these other boys who don't know how to take after themselves without a house elf to constantly do it for them. Sure we have servant elves in the castle—I say this as if it's normal, really—but most of them stick to kitchen duties. Our dormitories are mostly our responsibility. And since half of us don't know any cool magic tricks to clean up, everything is manual. What's the point of living in a magical world if we can't do half of the things I'm sure witches and wizards are capable of?

Right now I'm just sitting in the girls' lavatory. It is so far away from the center of traffic at Hogwarts, that girls do not seem to bother coming here the later it gets in the day. The time to myself does give me peace to contemplate Dumbledore… Um… And other things… I swear, I don't know what my attraction is to this man. Professor Dumbledore came up to me in the hallway asking me how I am enjoying my time here—I told him that I am loving it! He then swiftly walked away to take care of some business in the kitchen between two elves. We all know that I hate to see him go, but I sure do love to watch him leave. _What swagger!_ He must work out... I'd love to "accidentally" walk in on that. I mean... No... That would completely horrify me... Yes... _Horrifying_...

Anyway! I should probably catch you up on today. I went to Care of Magical Creatures... Great class... NOT! The professor stinks. He's one of those professors that you just want to bludgeon across the head with one of those… Oh, what do you call those sport-y things they use here… Bludgers, I believe. I caught myself almost throwing the book across the field a couple of times today. Of course, there were plenty of students who found it very funny, I, on the other hand, almost got detention. Luckily the book didn't go very far. That would have been quite tragic… (It has been said I have _quite_ the throwing arm by the handful of kids I used to throw rocks and toys at in the orphanage.) As I walked up to where Professor Kettleburn was standing, he pointed one of his remaining fingers at me and told me if I were to throw another, or attempt to, throw another book at him, I would have detention for a month and 200 House Points would be deducted from Slytherin. That would put us at -175, I think. Oh yeah, we rule. Sigh... Professor Slughorn got mad at me when he heard, but then a queer kind of smirk came on his face and he told me next time, try to release quicker than the big oaf can dodge. He doesn't like Kettleburn, either. Not surprising. He doesn't like too many people, if they aren't bright or famous.

Whatever Slughorn wants, Slughorn will get, though. If he wants me to throw faster, maybe next time I'll just do that. After that little incident, the other boys and girls in my house did warm up to me better. Though, the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs didn't find it too funny. At any rate, I'm getting along better with my dorm mates. They apologized for stealing you, but I still hate them for it. They will pay for it, I swear. If they don't watch it, I'll torment them same as I did the others… But, in reality, I can't. I have to be better than that… Right…

Today, the talk of the halls is Slughorn and McGonagall, who were having a fiery discussion about punishing a Gryffindor girl. Apparently Slughorn wanted to take all of Gryffindor's points away from them because she almost tripped him trying not to be late for class. It is their fault news traveled the way it did—they were fighting in the Great Hall during breakfast! McGonagall looked like she was going to throw the entire rack of ham at him! She was tossing biscuits across the length of the professors' table and he was ducking and cursing trying not to get impaled by the food he had planned on eating. Slughorn isn't always so cranky and Hell-bent on making everyone's life miserable. He's just had a rough start with our house this year. Apparently, more of the richer families' children have "exceptional behavioral problems," I heard him say to Dumbledore. If he isn't used to it now, he won't ever be. I made a new friend today during the commotion, however. Roland Mormon, he said his name was. He's a half-giant and you sure can tell... I've never seen anything like it! It's so bizarre. No offense to giants, or _any_ creature for that matter, but I don't think I could bring a life into the world that was part me and part centaur or something. Kinda crazy. How would you go about that, anyway? I mean, seriously, think about it... Maybe it's like fish sex; you don't know how they do it, all you know is that they get it done. Okay, I'm putting too much thought into this. Anyway... Roland and I are cool, and the Patil twins and I have really been hitting it off well... Today in the common room, Slughorn, and I played Wizard's Chess against each other. That was real great. I kicked his arse. He was really mad! Slughorn kept muttering underneath his breath how horrible it was. "I taught him—I should have won. Losing to a student is like pissing hydrochloric acid... I'll never live this down with the other staff." He's such a drama-queen… Hopefully when things slow down around here he'll go back to being more like himself... Whatever he is usually like, that is...

Dumbledore decided that due to such a large population of first-years, professors should show that they care about our well-being at school and be more involved. They have all gone to decorating their classrooms with ridiculous signs and slogans on the walls, cheering us on in our success in the wizarding world. The only thing that made it bearable was Roland ripping the "o" off of the sign in Professor McGonagall's classroom that read, "First-years count!" Some bloke with a new camera that he received during the owl post this morning took about six pictures of the sign, with many of us dancing in front of it. I think we might see it on our dormitory bulletin board pretty soon. Too bad he got detention for it. I think, secretly, McGonagall found it humorous as well. She only took ten points for the act.

I would keep writing but some girl just came running in screaming and crying. I suppose I should let her have her privacy even though she ruined mine…

-.-~*~-.-

_Boys' Dormitory_

I can't sleep. Yes, four hours later and I can't sleep. Okay... It's not as if I actually have anything interesting to report. A group from Hufflepuffs decided they were going to chunk chicken and mashed potatoes, in the Great Hall, during dinner… There were ramblings about some Hufflepuff girl that was dumped by some Gryffindor… Roland got mashed potatoes stuck in his ears and new beard. (Didn't he tell me he shaved last night?) …

I wonder if Dumbledore has ever considered shaving his beard? I like that clean-cut look on men... Ugh… I need to stop writing with this quill. It's too permanent!

You, _filthy Diary_! You are the one that makes me think these _gay_ thoughts! I am going to go to sleep before I throw you out the window.  
-Tom Riddle

* * *

**Author's Note: Please leave me reviews! I keep getting so many hits, but no one is reviewing...**


	3. September 3, 1937

**Author's Note: I am making a reminder to you all of the character discrepancies I have made in this Fanfic. (You can see others in the author's note made in chapter one.)**

**You have to keep in mind that this is a Fanfic that I wrote years ago, and I am simply rewriting it. Some of these things may not be correct, or I made them up back then to fill in gaps J.K. Rowling had yet to reveal to her audience. If someone else knows, 100 positive, on names or small facts I have overlooked during my rewrites, let me know in a message or in your review. And of course, I don't know if the "twins" thing about the Patils is true, but it _is_ for this diary. And Lucy and Lucinda are made up names, obviously. Abraxas, if you didn't know, is, in fact, Draco's grandfather... There's something else I must point out. I'm sure, you've found this to be obvious already but, I've kinda changed the Timeline around a bit: Oswald Crabbe, possibly Abraxas, and anyone else I might introduce that is clearly much younger than Voldemort's timeline implies (except for Moaning Myrtle, Olive Hornby, and a couple of others I can't think of right now) are not in the story of Hogwarts when Tom Riddle was a student. I'm not even sure that Dobby was in the Malfoy family (more than likely not in the 1930s). And as I've already stated, Dumbledore was the Transfigurations professor at this time, but I kept him as we all know him—as headmaster—with Minerva McGonagall as the professor, despite her not even teaching at Hogwarts until about 1956. But Dame Maggie Smith played McGonagall, so she automatically deserves to be in any Fanfic ever written—and it is a Fanfic, so I can stretch the truth as much as I damn well please. **

**And so you know, I created Roland Mormon because I wanted to use Hagrid, but couldn't because Hagrid doesn't start school at Hogwarts until 1939.**

**And just so you know, I was listening to John Williams as I wrote this chapter. I know, I'm awesome.**

* * *

**_September 3, 1937_**

_Slytherin Common Room_

Dear Diary,

Third day of school, and I already want to vomit from the huge amounts of homework. Can you believe that _I got detention_? So I _did_ let the book go this time at Professor Kettleburn. I didn't _mean_ for it to hit him in the head and knock him into the cage of nifflers. Okay... Thinking back… I probably should have gotten worse than detention, considering nifflers can be affectionate, but are very much attracted to shiny objects. Poor Kettleburn was wearing a whistle to alert the nurse if anything else went wrong in his class, and… They demolished the fellow. I mean, he's obviously still alive. But, he is about as close to Nearly Headless Nick without being dead as he can be. Slughorn was furious with me—apparently it was his whistle.

Dumbledore called me into his office. I felt like I was being summoned, but his soft eyes helped me relax… He told me that I can't keep acting up or he'll regret ever bringing me in. That hurt worse than I think he realized. At any rate, Kettleburn was generous and only took 45 points from Slytherin. It was enough to piss off all of my house mates, though. They have completely left me to sit in the corner of the common room by myself. One of the boys tried to take you away from me, Diary, but I just glared at him, and the same thing happened then that used to happen in the orphanage, something strange happened to the student and he got slammed into the couch.

It wasn't enough to hurt him… And I didn't do it on purpose… But ever since then they have left me alone. No one bothered to even glare in my direction even though they were all furious that Slughorn had to take another 20 points away for that act.

I don't know what everyone is so upset about. They are all just gits, really. Olive got us 60 points in Potions yesterday for her wonderfully concocted experiment. Of course, my guess is Slughorn is a pervert… I suppose I could try harder to make a better impression here. At least win them over so they don't hate me when I lose a few points. I think they are just mad because Gryffindor is ahead by 20 points. We can beat them, if we try. That House Cup could be ours… They just aren't thinking clearly. Maybe they expect that pranks and charm is the only way to win anyone over… Well, fine. I'll help them in their little game. I could use some charming brownie points from the professors, anyway—even if I can't get it from Dumbledore… This whole unrequited love thing is started to really wear on me… I see him in the halls, and he just smiles and walks away. Won't even glance back as I do.

I've pretty much given up fighting my attraction to him.

-.-~*~-.-

_Professor Slughorn's Office_

Since I put Kettleburn in the hospital wing, I have to spend detention with the easily manipulative Slughorn. I entered the office, and Slughorn already looked too pleased to have to spend time with me. I think he's beginning to feel like himself again… Ugh…

"Well, hello Mr. Riddle. And how are you this evening?"  
"Fine. And how are you, Professor?"  
"Just dandy! You can help me grade scrolls!"

Need I go on? Yes, I am grading _everyone's_ scrolls—all seven years, all four houses. I think my arm is about to fall off. I'm writing in here on the side, I hope he doesn't catch me. Even if I am continuously writing one thing or another, writing about my day or my feelings is a nice reprieve from grading. It'll make this go by quicker. It's worked before. Plus, if I am writing in my diary, then that means the less "work" I get done during my hour or so spent here, giving Slughorn more work to do when I leave. I should be nicer to him. He's easily fooled, anyway, but tonight he's making me do something I'm learning to hate.

Remind me never to be a professor, Diary.

-.-~*~-.-

_Professor Dumbledore's Office_

I was just made to discuss what happened to Kettleburn with Dumbledore. Apparently, the only really bad thing that's happened to him was he got a nice shiner from one big fat niffler that sat on his face (which I'm sure the weirdo enjoyed), and he's just _a little_ bruised in places. But Professor Dumbledore was wondering why I did what I did. I told him that it was an accident. He said he knew it was only the third day of school but ever since our meeting in the orphanage, I've seemed to be doing better than the behavior described to him by Ms. Munnings. I can only imagine what she's told him. That muggle would not even know where to begin when, all along, I've been playing with magic, we just didn't know what to call it. He let me off with just a warning "this time." With all that fat niffler gave Kettleburn—this time—I'm lucky he didn't have more than a shiner to deal with. I could have been looking at expulsion.

I wish that my time was not almost up here. Dumbledore just bent down in front of me to pick up his wand. He has a nice hiney… (I'm trying not to be crude, okay?) Regardless of how great his butt may be, I'd bet my nose he wouldn't make a great lover. Not after all he did to Grindelwald.

Some of the less reputable Slytherins (not that I'm finding very many reputable students housed in Slytherin) make jokes that he had a thing for Grindelwald. Whatever. There is no way Dumbledore is gay. How could he resist me? I'm destined to turn into a stunning man.

He's looking at me now suspiciously… He just asked me what I was writing… I told him I had it in detention and I was just continuing my rants from earlier today…

He's telling me I can leave now…

Ah, that voice…

-.-~*~-.-

_Great Hall_

I'm off in the corner of the Great Hall writing this. Everyone hates me right now. I've basically been shunned. From the Slytherins table, of all places! They said it was only for tonight so this crazy incident could blow over. The other houses threatened them. As if I give a bloody shit what those other houses do.

One boy with really blonde hair, who apparently runs _the_ clique of Slytherin, started picking on some Hufflepuffs. If there is one thing I have learned rather quickly it is that people sorted into Hufflepuff are about as effective as the little dumb beetles that scatter when you walk across the grass too quickly. And their mascot, of sorts, has been bugging me. What is that? A honey badger? Pathetic. The blonde boy decided to mess with a large Hufflepuff. He merely just looked the other way and kept walking. I guess the honey badger doesn't give a shit—at least not when it comes to snakes of any kind…

A nice, little, house elf is going to help me tonight in getting Slughorn back for failing my scroll—oh yeah, did I mention that? I was stuck grading all of those scrolls, and he took mine and failed me! Maybe part of the blame can be put on my study habits, but still! I actually studied! Then Dumbledore came by and started perusing the Restricted Section and I got distracted. Oh bother…

At any rate, this is also a chance for revenge on making me help him with his work in the first place. The elf's name is Gumby, and for some odd reason, "Gritz" is his nickname. He's hated Slughorn ever since the professor threatened to sick the flesh-eating slugs on him. He doesn't really want to talk about it much. When I asked him if Professor Slughorn really followed through with it, a fellow elf shivered badly, so I decided to stop picking at their scabs. I told him that if he helps me tonight, that I'll look after him. At least someone has no problem being somewhat friendly to me tonight. I hear elves make good house servants, but only if they fear you (at least that's what the blonde boy was bragging about—I really should learn his name).

-.-~*~-.-

_Boys' Dormitory_

So, after we all went back to our common rooms, I waited for everyone to leave and summoned Gritz. He came in a flash, the blonde boy started to come downstairs, and, I have to admit, I panicked. But it was all right. The big snob was sleepwalking and muttering something about slow dancing with Slughorn. I knew he was looking at him funny in potions class. (Of course, I guess I have no room to talk, huh?) I learned his name, by the way. A hefty boy that goes strictly by "Goyle" yelled at him to give him back the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans—his name is Abraxas Malfoy. I'll have to remember that for later. When Abraxas somehow managed his way, gracefully, back up the stairs, Gritz and I snuck into the Great Hall, past that dumb Gryffindor prefect and the professors' dining table. It was so dark and Gritz was latched onto my leg the entire way there. He told me he wanted to keep watch and make sure that no one caught him.

I walked through the door on the side, and it led to the outside. Not that this was surprising, but I got a gorgeous view of the lake.

So, anyway... If you go around the corner of the school, there's the lake and a nice sitting spot next to it. You can sit up against this rock that fits the form of your back easily, and it's just great. It's the perfect place to write in here, or even just think about stuff... It was easier to get there than I thought. If you walk a little further, you can find all of the cages filled with the creatures we learn about in Kettleburn's course. Gritz took the nifflers and we managed to sneak back to Slughorn's office and release them.

I hope he enjoys his morning nettle tea—he'll need the kick to get away from them with the flashy robes he wears…  
-Tom Riddle

* * *

**Author's Note: Please leave me reviews! I keep getting so many hits, but no one is reviewing...**


	4. September 4, 1937

**_September 4, 1937_**

_Boys' Dormitory_

Dear Diary,

I have come to a conclusion: I am not _gay_, I am just so comfortable in my own masculinity that I am not afraid to say that Albus Dumbledore is attractive. I mean, what else could it be? Lucy Patil is very attractive. Even more than Dumbledore... (Not really...) Regardless! I have decided that I am going to ask her out on a date. Actually, I'm just going to ask her if she'll sit next to me in Transfiguration. Of course, when Abraxas, _somehow_ found out that I was planning this, he called it an abomination and said that I should be kicked out of Slytherin for it. I don't care. He's hated me since the first day of school because a few girls were fawning over me first. I have discovered many tricks that I can use on him in potions if he ever does decide to turn on me. Oh yes, do not fret, Diary, I have yet to lose my entire evil streak! What do you expect? I was a tyrant in the orphanage. You can't expect me to be completely good _all_ of the time.

I don't really have any experience with house elves. In fact, Gritz is the only one I've seen or heard from in the entire school. Abraxas always boasts about how his family has one. It's stupid, really. Who cares? But that is Malfoy for you. I curse the day a sperm has the desire to leave his body. It is bad enough his parents decided to skip watching television that night and procreate instead.

Where was I? I don't even know what I was talking about... Oh yes, Gritz was my main topic. According to Malfoy, even though Dobby, his house elf, is quite gangly, Gritz has to be the runt of the kitchen staff. I noticed he was quite smaller than I would have imagined, though. He only comes up to my knee and Abraxas said that healthy elves should come up at least three inches above your knee. Of course, he said it with a smug tone, but still... It's so sad, Gritz is probably bullied. For once, however, Abraxas and I agreed on something! We snuck some of Oswald Crabbe's food (that he stole from lunch) to Gritz and fed him. Gritz was very delighted to get food. He scarfed it down quicker than I've ever seen Crabbe or Goyle eat. They're such hogs. Abraxas does have a kind soul... To Slytherins. I'm thinking that if he would just pull that wand out of his butt, we'd make good friends—unless he likes it there, then maybe I can assist—ugh, I just can't stop the comments from coming. Maybe he's going to actually look past our differences. He says he knows that Slytherins are mean, he's aware of his own cruelty, but he likes it, and even though it has made Dobby the skittish git that he is today, he can't help it. Cruelty is in his blood.

You know, I'm sitting here writing this, and I have to say, we have actually opened up to each other, and kinda "bonded." Gross. I have this feeling that tomorrow, it will be like nothing ever happened, though. He has a crowd that follows him around and everything that he has to live up to. I don't care about being popular, but I had that back at the orphanage. Any unfortunate souls that were still my age and in the orphanage were my "crowd." They did whatever I wanted them to do. I could probably have that here. But I would have to really want it. Unfortunately, there are not a lot of smart people in Slytherin to talk to, except Malfoy and his tyrant of a friend, Bellatrix. I told Malfoy that I don't know anything of my past. I'd like to meet my family, I know they are out there. Sometimes I wish I knew everything of my family and past. I want to feel loved, important.

In Care of Magical Creatures, Kettleburn actually showed up. He looked peeved. He yelled at us all, and apparently all of his classes, about the nifflers that attacked him when he entered his office. I got slightly worried, but apparently Slughorn got in trouble with Dumbledore early this morning because he summoned the nifflers I had sent into his office last night, into Kettleburn's quarters. He was wearing an eye patch and his whole left leg was wrapped up in bandages. Every house attending the class got 75 points taken from them for laughing. But you could not help it. He looked like a pirate from one of those French carnivals. I have to give him credit, though. He still continued his lesson today. We're talking about dragons. Of course, it is illegal to bring any dragon on Hogwarts premises. But we are currently studying Norwegian Ridgebacks from Romania. They look fierce. And Professor said that they are the most dangerous, or _one_ of the most. Great. That crosses Romania off of my list of places I want to see before I die. Now that I am, indeed, not immune to the magical world, there is a better chance of running into one.

J—

Yup. I just fell off of my bed. Great. Now I'm going to have a bruise there. What is wrong with me?

I'm starting to become more and more jealous of all the students. They are always getting letters and going up to the owlery to send their replies, and I have no one to talk to. I just get the Daily Prophet so I'll have something to read during breakfast. Nothing important has come up. Just interviews with local people asking them about stuff, stupid stuff.

I should go to sleep now. Maybe I'll dream of what else I can do to Kettleburn. Maybe Dumbledore will be in it, too. Oh, goody!  
-Tom Riddle

_Look at me, my name is Tommy and I'm a homo! Hee, hee, hee, hee. Geez, Riddle! You sure are obsessed with Dumbledore's old ass, aren't you? Don't worry! I won't tell anyone, but you are going to get a hell of a lot of teasing tomorrow! - Abraxas Malfoy_

* * *

**Author's Note: Leave me replies, you guys!**


	5. September 5, 1937

**_September 5, 1937_**

_Boys' Lavatory_

Dear Diary,

Remember that bawling idiot that ruined my privacy in the girl's lavatory the other day? She finally told me her name: Myrtle. Olive Hornby tortures her any chance she gets, apparently. I let her know no one actually likes Olive, so it's alright if she gets back at her once in awhile. Not that I think she will. I don't know what house she lives in, but she might as well be a Hufflepuff. I wish I could do something for Myrtle, but she won't talk to me. I don't think she talks to anyone; she's probably completely frightened that someone will hurt her feelings. I'm surprised I got her name out of her. I couldn't even get a last name. I know nothing of her. I wonder if Olive turned her this way... I never knew that girls could be so cruel. I suppose to win anyone over in Slytherin I'll have to be even crueler…

At lunch Dumbledore slipped on some Hufflepuff girl's creamed corn. And guess who caught him? Me. Yes, yes, no applause necessary. I saved the poor (hot) dear's life. Yay me! Of course, all the Slytherins were a little disappointed that I did not let the headmaster fall and break something that would more than likely land him in the hospital wing, but the other three tables were thrilled that I saved him. Dumbledore invited me into his _cozy_ office after Potions to thank me again and award Slytherin fifty House Points for my impressive reflexes. (Did you hear that, Diary? He was _impressed!_)

Malfoy and I are on and off about being friends, one minute we're laughing together, the next, he's making fun of me. Especially when he caught me reenacting how I wish lunch had gone earlier... I didn't know anyone else was in the dorm, and I guess I let my daydreams get the better of me. Sometimes, in moments like this, I wish I could just seal my soul in this diary and hide away from people. Not that that's even possible… But it'd be better than dealing with Malfoy making fun of me. You should have seen what I was seeing, Diary:

_You walk into a cleared Great Hall, Dumbledore is standing there, wearing a very tight, dress robe, and I in mine. Tango music comes on, and he begins to tremble. I walk towards him, oh-so casually, and he trips on some Hufflepuff girl's creamed corn that conveniently appears. I catch him in one hand, and gaze into his eyes. We then commence to dancing around the Great Hall while I serenade him..._

And as I was slow-dancing to myself, repeatedly calling out Dumbledore's name, Malfoy walks in, looking as if he's about to explode from laughter, literally. I wish he had. So now, all of Slytherin thinks I'm a confused queer. Do you know what happened on my way to Herbology? Some sixth year Slytherin came up behind me and lifted my robe, yelling, "HE'S A FRAUD!" Which has now created this assumption that I am not actually male; isn't that great? It is all Abraxas Malfoy's fault! Apparently, the large knot I left on his head with a beater's club, after I discovered he had been snooping in my diary, meant nothing to him at all!

The only good that came out of my embarrassment was that I got called into Dumbledore's office. "I witnessed, myself, the _incident_ on your way to Herbology. I'm sorry this happened. But whatever would give them the idea that you are a girl?" Great. He had to ask! I told him that Abraxas caught me singing a girly song that was stuck in my head. When I told him the title of the only muggle song that came to mind, Dumbledore lifted one eyebrow, possibly thinking to himself that I may indeed be gay. First time I have ever wanted to deck that man. And of course, Abraxas just had to walk in. Dumbledore had apparently summoned him as well for starting this mess. Malfoy gave me a smirk and then turned at Dumbledore with a smug I'm-better-than-you look on his face. The headmaster seemed to just ignore this and asked what is going on.

Well, good ol' reliable Malfoy went and did it! He just had to do it! He gave me a chuckle and told Professor that I was reenacting what happened in the Great Hall today, only it was more "sexually involved," as he so kindly put it. Dumbledore turned to me, looking as if he was about to faint. _I told him it wasn't true!_I think he believed me, considering he apparently knows the Malfoy family quite well. But as luck would have it, Myrtle came running in terrified, and knocked me into Dumbledore's lap. Oh... Malfoy had a fit! He turned several shades of pink and purple from all the laughter. If only I could have hit him! But, even though I didn't want to, I got out of Dumbledore's lap, and he asked Myrtle what she was so terrified about.

Here comes Myrtle with her sobbing, annoying, cracking voice—the poor soul—explaining what is happening. "Well, I was going to the girl's lavatory to cry as I usually do when Olive Hornby teases me," pausing quickly for a short sob, "And I had to pass by a vent that was in the kitchen, when I heard all of this noise coming from it. I stepped onto the railing and peeked inside, and there, was a bunch of house elves fighting."

"GRITZ!" Malfoy and I yelled at the same time and, with Dumbledore, ran to the kitchen to get the little runt away from the rest of the kitchen staff. I was under the impression that Gritz was being torn to pieces, but when we went in there, Gritz was planting his foot in the faces of all the house elves. It looked like a fight between a less hairy Flitwick and a bunch of garden gnomes. He even gave one big elf quite the broken arm. I don't know what's going to happen to him because of it. I hope he's not kicked out.

-.-~*~-.-

_Slytherin Common Room_

Oh, my, _God!_ Dumbledore has been giving me odd looks here lately. Yes, _very_ odd ones! I bet he doesn't believe me when I say I'm not gay, or transgender, or whatever nonsense my peers are spreading around. Maybe he believes Malfoy's story about what happened in the common room earlier. I don't care if it is the first time that Abraxas has been able to experience the satisfaction that can be received from actually telling the truth! I don't want our headmaster to know I'm daydreaming about him!

I think it is time to go to bed now. Abraxas is snogging with some pimply, gangly girl and I just cannot take it! I plan on pouring a nice potion that will make him sick in his pumpkin juice tomorrow, anyway. Maybe then we can call a truce and move on. If not, I'll just do what I used to and win over his clique and kick him out. Bellatrix has been eyeing me, anyway. I'm sure I can weasel my way in with her.  
-Tom Riddle

* * *

**Author's Note: I like that I am getting more people to view this story, but I would like more! Leave me reviews!**


	6. September 6, 1937

**Author's Note: I updated the last five chapters, so, if you want, you can re-read them and then read this new chapter. It's up to you, really, but I did change some stuff and I have been working on these chapters and this one for quite a few hours, collectively now, so I hope you get something out of it. I'm mostly just trying to be humorous and as close to facts as I can get, minus the few discrepancies of which I have made mention.**

**So, to those who actually have added me as of late to their reads, thanks (even though I'm shit at updating anything). I'm trying to update some of these things as frequently and as much as possible because I will be going back to school in August, and while I'm going to have a nice, light schedule, I will end up distracted with other things… It's just how I am. Sorry if the updating blows up in the next few days, I just want to be able to say that I have posted a lot. **

**I am actually trying to think through these entries. I really only start off with a rough idea of what I want to write and just see where I end up—considering this is just a diary I am writing, I can be a little more loose with it—but I have strategic ideas in place for what I do for specific entries and what I say in regards to Tom's eventual plans to become "Lord Voldemort." I more than likely will not go any farther than this year, unless I just fill completely overwhelmed with the need to, but I doubt I will. I think that after so many entries, I'll probably want this to end soon. **

**I know that Bellatrix has no real history with Voldemort and actually had a husband though she would have sucked Riddle's dick just for him to look her in the eyes long enough to satisfy whatever sadistic lust she had for him, ****but I have included her because it just made it funnier to me for them to have some sort of history prior to her just being the witch you respect but are frightened of that officially goes off the deep-end after Hogwarts and joins up with Voldemort later in his crusade of Death Eaters. So, there you have it. Enjoy what I have here. **

* * *

**_September 6, 1937_**

_Professor McGonagall's Office_

Dear Diary,

Bellatrix and I managed to get into some trouble today. We're stuck in detention, and she is currently reading over my shoulder as I write—

Anyway, McGonagall gave us the most menial of all tasks for detention, so we finished rather quickly, but we're both trying to look busy. I'm not sure if Bellatrix is being convincing enough, honestly. She's just picking at her fingernails and whistling. (I think the girl is mental.) I have to be nice to her whatever I do, though, because I got her into this.

I suppose I should backtrack…

Earlier today, before we ended up here, I was talking with Abraxas, and he said that his cousin had become a bit infatuated with me. Obviously he was talking about Bellatrix Black. Apparently, anything and anyone that can be seen as a bit mischievous catches her eye easily. "She likes the bad blokes," he said. And considering she is, mostly because of relation and not will, part of the Slytherin clique, I figured she would be the best place to sneak my way into the crowd—it was something I was hoping to devise eventually, I just needed the confirmation that Bellatrix _was_ looking at me. I have to convince the school that I am an okay chap, and not just one of those other racist Slytherins trying to ruin everyone else's education and fun.

You know, the other houses, they may have really pathetic excuses for witches and wizards, but they aren't all bad. They could be useful. Roland, for example, isn't a Slytherin. He's a Ravenclaw, and they are rather wise themselves. I figure if I can get a small crowd from any house, I will be doing well for myself.

Anyway, I am rambling. The point is, it was a bout of jealousy and a bit of wit that got me in this predicament. And ever since then, Bellatrix won't leave me alone. She keeps coming up with pet names for me, like "Tommy Boy" and "Riddlekins." Along with these terrible nicknames, she insists I call her "Belle."

"It means beauty! And that's what I am, aren't I?" she said.  
"Yes, you're beautiful…" I remember saying through gritted teeth (though, she wouldn't know the difference). I can be as sour to her as I want to be, and she thinks it's just part of my character—which, I have to say, is an upside.

So, today in Transfiguration, I was minding my own business, listening to McGonagall and actually being an attentive student—I'm not stupid, so failing scrolls is beyond ridiculous—when Abraxas' quill starts poking me in the side. I turned to glare at him when he stopped me and said that Bellatrix is feeling feisty and since Myrtle is nowhere to be found she needs another outlet. I looked over at _Belle_ and she was flashing her fresh eyes at me hoping I would make a move. So, I managed to get McGonagall to let me "use the restroom." Ten minutes later, Bellatrix did the same thing. I was outside of the classroom, waiting for my doom when the worst thing could have happened: Dumbledore showed up. He came swishing by in his beautiful new robe, checking up on some school affairs. He gave me a nice pat on the head and suddenly my chest felt tighter. As he walked away, I watched the way his hips went one way and his robes another. Suddenly, Bellatrix jumped in my line of vision and toppled into me with a ferocious embrace.

"I'm so excited you wanted to ditch, too!" she exclaimed.

I was looking past her head when I saw Dumbledore cut around a corner and it wasn't my chest that felt tighter anymore.

"Oh! Someone looks happy to see me!" she perked up.  
_Great…_

So, she commenced the snogging, and for being only 11, puberty sure hit her quickly. In all honesty, Bellatrix was suffocating me, and the only thing that got me through it was the thought of Dumbledore's swag. Had it not been for the way he moves, I wouldn't have gotten through it. When a few students began walking past, I couldn't just allow this to continue, as if she was molesting me and I was the poor sap stuck. I did the one thing I could think of—at the orphanage, Ms. Munnings used to watch lots of romance movies, and though I hated them, sometimes it was my punishment to watch them, too. I noticed, most of the men were a bit rough with the women in these moments of embrace, and they loved it. It looked like my only option.

I slammed her against the wall and began furiously snogging her back. She enjoyed it, but she was squeezing me so tight, I was getting scratched by my zipper. Apparently all the commotion outside brought McGonagall outside of the classroom, right before dismissal, just to catch us in this innocent display of… Whatever you want to call it… She ripped me away; I no longer had anything in my pants to worry about, because Bellatrix's tongue is the easiest cock blocker I've ever encountered. Professor took us both into her office for the longest detention of my life.

I'd rather be with Ms. Munnings watching one of her weird films.

Bellatrix is growling at McGonagall's fish… I really do think she'll end up in some crazy wizard's prison one day. Just two more hours and maybe we can get through this. McGonagall only took twenty points away each, but even with the loss, Slytherin has been doing so well in Potions we're still ahead of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw by ten points.

She's calling me _Riddlekins_ again… If this has to be convincing, she's going to have to call me something else. "Tommy Boy" sounds like something you'd call a pathetic fat man, and "Riddlekins" would just make me seem even more like a homosexual than what I am already teased for. She's touching my leg…

Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy being adored, it will only help my chances of getting in with the Slytherin crowd, but if she's going to _touch_ me, I'm going to have to come up with some boundaries and rules..

-.-~*~-.-

_Girls' Lavatory_

Abraxas and Bellatrix followed me into the girls' lavatory hoping to find Myrtle. They thought I was going to do something to her. They are a bit bummed to just find me writing in my diary, but we have had an interesting conversation so far. Bellatrix keeps telling Abraxas how happy she is to have attacked me in the hallway. "Riddlekins and I are going to be so perfect together, Malfoy!" she keeps saying. Abraxas is humoring it, but he can see me rolling my eyes. I'm waiting for him to pry some more. I'm just happy that we finally were released from the cat's claws and allowed to do something other than look busy in a ridiculous detention sentence. The fourth and fifth years snog all the time and block your way doing so, and no one gets mad. Occasionally a prefect will stop them if it gets too… Gross… But McGonagall was just mad that we—technically—ditched class for our snog-fest.

Whatever... Gryffindor Head git!

She really didn't look too upset, though. For someone who caught me with an erection snogging Bellatrix, I would expect a whole lot worse. Maybe when I complimented her robes, she believed me—ha! If that's all it takes to get on her good side, I should learn how to conjure up apples and bring them to class everyday for her. That's a good way to kiss up.

Of course, if I did that I probably wouldn't keep Slytherin on my side for very long… It's bad enough they could find out about my muggle father… I am sure they wouldn't look too kindly on the son of a "traitor" mother.

But "being" with Bellatrix definitely seems to be doing what I wanted it to do all along. Even if Bellatrix probably deserves a burning at the stake like muggles used to do, she is getting me what I want, and no one's dignity is at stake—as long as she keeps her hands off of mine.

The prefects will be looking for us any minute now, and Malfoy is looking a bit paler than usual—I think my potion is actually working (yes, I went through with it). We should have been in bed almost an hour ago. I suppose it's time to retire my writing and our odd conversation full of talk about _Riddlekins and Belle_, messing with Myrtle and the damn honey badgers who keep getting in the way of whatever terror Slytherin plans.

Until next time,  
Tom Riddle

* * *

**Author's Note: Once again, I'm sorry for how long it took to update this thing, but I hope you enjoy what you read... I've had kind of rough day today so I tried to put in as much humor as possible, and I hope I satisfied something in my story telling... Also, I would re-read this myself, but lemme' know of any typos and I'll fix them ASAP. I'm not really in the mood to look at this document any longer, heh... So, yeah, also... Review it, please. I'm not getting any other than my best friend's and I've gotten a decent amount of hits on the story...**


End file.
